


You're Gonna Have To Try A Little Bit Harder Than That, Mate.

by Phantomlimb



Category: Lie to Me (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Cal is an asshole, Crossover, Dean is Not Heterosexual, Gillian is Cal's handler, Humor, Oblivious Castiel, One Shot, Sam Knows, Sam and Dean get called out, so nothing out of the norm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:19:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4804301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomlimb/pseuds/Phantomlimb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These guys are clearly amateurs and Cal can spot them the minute he sees them. They’re clearly not FBI agents and boy is their codependency showing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Have To Try A Little Bit Harder Than That, Mate.

 

“Good evening, Officer.”

“Not Police, mate,” the short man said in a rough English accent as he swaggered across the yellow crime scene tape.

Sam frowned but quickly composed himself as Dean eyed the Englishman suspiciously (but then again, he looked at everyone like that, Sam included).

The man, (who was not a Police officer and yet?) crouched close to the body and was about to poke said dead victim when-

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Dean warned.

The man took the finger he was about to use to poke the dead body and pointed it at Dean.

“And why is that, _Ken doll_?” The man asked with a glint in his eye, sucking on his teeth as if to taunt Dean even further.

Dean smiled sharply and said “Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”

“Ironic,” the Englishman said,standing up, “innit because I don’t believe a _single word coming out of your mouth_ ,” he finished,  waving his hands around.

Both Winchester remained perfectly composed until the stranger got all up in their faces, pointing.

“See that? That’s not normal, well not how normal people react when they’re accused of being liars. Most people act outraged, but you lot? You’re acting like you’re _relieved_ you have something less to hide.”

At that comment, Sam frowned and suddenly, the Englishman’s focus was on him and he was staring at Sam’s face rather intently.

“You’re the youngest, yet you’re the more logical one. Might even be the wisest, and oh, you did not like that, did you?” The man said before moving onto Dean who had apparently made a face at his words.

“You don’t like being seen as the dumber one, which frankly, you are but that doesn’t mean you’re dumb. You’re just not as smart as your brother. Ooh, and you’re the oldest, aren’t you? That must sting, did Daddy never give you equal bit of attentio-”

English was cut off as Dean had taken a swing at his face and the punch had connected; Sam was holding him back.

“Dean, calm down, he isn’t worth it,” Sam said as Dean struggled against him.

“Dean, rather nasty temper you’ve got there. So I take it Sam got Daddy’s attention then?” The Englishman said as he wiped away the blood from his mouth from the ground.

“Cal!” A woman called out as she approached them.

“Oh bugger,” the Englishman muttered before plastering on a fake smile.

By this point, Sam was able to release Dean and not fear mauling.

“Gillian, darling, wherever have you been?” The Englishman said.

The woman, Gillian, was now standing next to them and Sam got a better look. She had a sort of classical beauty to her and she was well dressed and also looking so unimpressed that Sam could relate far too much with her.

“I was talking to the local authorities like we’re supposed to plus there’s blood on your teeth. I’m Gillian Foster and this is my partner, Cal Lightman. We’re part of the organization known as the Lightman Group,” Gillian said charmingly as she held a hand out to shake with both Winchesters.

“Bloody hell, Gillian, don’t fraternize with these two, they’re bloody awful liars and shouldn’t even be here-”

“ _Cal,_ ” Gillian said sternly.

Cal shut up, making Dean snicker.

That was a bad idea on his part.

“Right, well, back to what I was saying, Gillian, you weren’t here, love, so you don’t know but essentially Dean here threw a tantrum because his father loved his brother best and from how his younger brother reacted to Dean’s outburst, it appears that the youngest is quite use to these little shows. I can’t quite imagine what their childhood was like,” Cal said vindictively, standing up as Dean continued to glare daggers at him.

“God, Cal, enough. I am so sorry, he’s not usually this unusual level of rude,” Gillian said apologetically but both Winchesters didn’t miss the way she eyed them with a new level of apprehension.

“It’s fine, just, my question is how Cal there deduced all that,” Sam said.

“We read faces,” Gillian answered.

“I’m sorry, read faces?” Dean, the shorter and oldest of the brothers asked.

Gillian took in stock that these were two obnoxiously attractive men and mixed with the business all of them were in, this did not sit well with her.

“The Lightman Group reads facial expressions, speech, and involuntary body language, we can read a spectrum of feelings – hidden resentment, sexual attraction, jealousy. Cal is the head of the organization,” Gillian replied easily.

“I would bloody hope so, it’s got my name on it,” Cal retorted.

“Fascinating,” Sam said, intrigued with the idea that these people were bonafide lie detectors.

“Yeah, _so cool_ , anyway, there’s a dead body my partner and I really need to take a look at so if you don’t mind-” Dean said before Cal interrupted.

“Oh but that’s the thing, we do mind. I mind that you two spoofs are here and you’ve no right in Police business.”

“Listen, pal, I’ve had it up to _here_ with all your mind games-”

“Dean,” a deep voice said interrupting Dean from ranting.

They all turned to find a man in a trench coat frowning at them.

 

“Uh,” Gillian said slightly flabbergasted.

“Cas- _Agent Castor, what are you doing here_?” Dean asked, face flushing red.

“I’ve come with important news. It will help you with this case and the others,” ‘Agent Castor’ replied, frowning.

“Awesome, just, uh,” Dean said before realizing he was in deep shit because the fucking Lightman dude was looking at him like it was Christmas morning.

“Oh Dean and just when I thought you were so two dimensional,” Cal smirked.

Dean scowled at him and motioned for Cas to come over, further away from the group; Sam thought of a way to get rid of these Lightman people.

“Right, well your group isn’t really needed right now and while we’re associated with the F.B.I, we can take it from here,” Sam said gently.

Gillian was almost bought with it but Cal-

“See, that’s why I said you were good. If I wasn’t, well, me, I would’ve thought you were telling the truth because of how you phrased your words there. You’ve just said that you’re affiliated with the F.B.I , not actually F.B.I and that is the problem. You’re a far better liar than your brother Dean over there because if really thinks he’s straight, he’s in for a rude awakening.”

Sam wasn’t supposed to laugh but the chuckle escaped his mouth before he could stop it.

“Dean-Dean isn’t really the topic of discussion here,” Sam said, trying to steer the conversation away from that.

“I rather think it should be about that. Oi, Dean! Shall I be sending you lot a Just Married fruit basket?” Cal called out to Dean and Castiel.

Dean’s face looked murderous and Sam feared he was going to have to stop another fight but then the Lightman people were interrupted by actual police.

“We need to leave, now,” Sam said, hoping to slip out before any of them noticed them missing.

 

“What did he mean by that, Dean?” Sweet, innocent Cas asked.

Sam looked at Dean hoping the man would grow a pair because he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to explain that shit to Cas.

“Beats me,” Dean replied, face tomato red as they all walked briskly away from the crime scene.

Sam sighed.

Some things never change.

****  
  


“Oh bloody-for fuck’s sake, I knew those two were too good to be cops,” Cal said.

He’d always wonder about those three but oh, well, it does not do well to dwell on the past.

“Cal, let’s solve this murder.”

**  
Hell of a murder, that one.**


End file.
